


Cupcakes and Coffee

by spinner33



Series: CM - Close to Canon [22]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 21:07:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5263634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinner33/pseuds/spinner33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reid is depressed because Mouse has moved to Seattle.  Hotch and Jack plan how to cheer Reid up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cupcakes and Coffee

Reid was roused from a deep, depressing sleep around noon. Dr. Goodfoot was taking tentative steps along Spencer’s spine before deciding the small of his back might be the perfect spot to nestle. Reid decided he should probably get out of bed now.

The doctor dragged himself through the quiet house towards the kitchen. Someone had set the coffee machine up for him. There was a meticulous and detailed grocery list abandoned on the countertop. A sprinkling of Legos covered the small kitchen table. Spencer filled Dr. Goodfoot’s food bowl, gave him fresh water, and poured himself a mug full of dark, delicious, sweet coffee.

Reid dragged himself back upstairs to the library, settling down on the settee with John LeCarré. He propped up his feet, getting comfortable under the heavy throw. Sunbeams threatened his cocoon of misery. He huddled tighter under deep purple and burgundy colors and lost himself in his book. 

There was a fair bit of noise in the dining room below. Goodfoot appeared on the second floor landing, having scaled the dining table, the centerpiece, the chandelier, and finally mounting the banister with all the flourish of a sea-faring pirate mounting the crow’s nest of his ship. The cat leapt up onto the end of the settee and all but grinned at Spencer.

“You really must stop that,” Reid said calmly, turning the page.

In reply, the cat washed his paws and face.

At one p.m., the front door creaked open, nearly soundless in the still. Reid did not look up from his book, but he heard the dash of feet on the staircase. He heard the rustle of plastic bags. He heard the front door close once more.

Reid glanced up from his book. Goodfoot had been asleep on the window seat, but he leapt upright in rapt attention at the sound of keys in the doorway of the library.

Hotch was studying Reid. Aaron smiled sideways at Spencer. Reid smiled faintly back at him.

“Jack?” Hotch whispered around the doorway.

“What?” Jack whispered back. He must be waiting on the other side of the wall.

“He’s up.”

“Did he shave?” 

“Not yet.”

“Plan A or Plan B?” Jack asked. 

“Plan B,” Hotch confirmed. 

“What do I do with….?”

“Hide it. We might need it later,” Hotch whispered. Jack crept past the doorway and rushed down the hallway. The guest room door opened and closed briskly.

Reid was staring at Hotch, waiting. Hotch waited too. Jack returned, panting.

“What is Plan B?” Reid asked. Jack grinned and ran at Reid, leaping onto the settee, putting his arms around Spencer’s neck. Reid put his book away.

“We bought your favorite cupcakes,” Jack said. “But you have to come downstairs if you want one.”

“Okay. I can do that,” Spencer agreed.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Reid leaned on the counter, rubbing his scruffy chin, watching Hotch put away groceries.

“Sorry I’ve been grumpy,” Spencer offered.

Jack was attempting to open the plastic container protecting the chocolate cupcakes from harm. Unsuccessfully. His little brow furrowed angrily. He went straight to the knife drawer, pulling it open.

“You’ve been a lot more than grumpy,” Hotch whispered, taking Jack’s fingers out of the knife drawer and closing it again.

“Sorry,” Reid added.

“It’s okay. We’re here to help, if you will let us in,” Hotch offered, dark eyes full of concern and love.

“What was Plan A?” Reid asked, helping Jack with the cupcake container.

“Duct tape and tickles,” Jack reported matter-of-factly. He dove into the cupcakes, running out of the kitchen with one in hand.

The chandelier swayed, and Goodfoot dropped to the dining table again, back arched, toy mouse in his teeth.

“Is it just me, or does that cat think he’s Jack Sparrow?” Hotch asked.

Reid snickered as he nodded. Hotch rubbed his shoulder and handed him a peeled cupcake.


End file.
